Interest
by Religion0
Summary: It was rare for women to interest him, this so-called 'King of Knights', however, did just that. /Fate/Zero verse/Collection/Rated for safety/Uncertain of genre/
1. Chapter 1

**It's rare that… I feel comfortable writing for a fandom not technically finished. But seeing as how I'm at least not left far behind, I suppose it won't be problematic, and this idea has just been pacing around my head since the eleventh episode came, so…**

**Note, by the way, that as I write British-English I spell "Saber" as "Sabre" to not annoy spell-check. Pronunciation is the same, anyway, so what do Japanese care?**

It was rare for women - people, as of late - to interest him. Oh, certainly, they were beautiful creatures, and they did hold the modicum of power over him that was at the centre of desire (it was hard to deny soft curves, large, innocently vulnerable eyes, pale, tender skin… But those were ramblings for another day). It rarely lasted for long, however, a tangling in the sheets or two and he craved someone new. Few women had denied him throughout his existence, both as King of Uruk and as a Heroic Spirit, either out of respect for who he was or their own desire - the few who had dared had quickly been persuaded otherwise.

He sometimes even found himself bored with them, despite physical appearance.

He had deduced there were four kinds of women: those who knew they were beautiful, and used it; those who knew, and didn't care; those who didn't believe they were, and tried to use it despite of that; those who didn't believe, and thus didn't try to use it. Of course, those four were extremes, and occasionally you would find someone in between those, he generally found the second the more alluring, and certainly more amusing.

Sabre, however, this so-called 'King of Knights' interested him. Although he _knew_ that golden hair was common among people of the north, his initial instinct upon seeing hair of such shimmering quality had been to ask which divinity she had descended from. Her eyes (so like emeralds) had only furthered that belief. If only she hadn't imposed upon his title, he might even have done so. Instead, he was angry at her and wanted to punish her as the uncouth impostor she was.

But he was ordered to let it be by the power of those detestable Command Seals.

It wasn't until, some days later, Iskandar the Pretender invited him to his - somewhat ridiculous - "Grail Dialogue" that he got a chance to revise his view on her. Of course, he had at first thought her a silly girl, giving her life to a country… How very ridiculous! A king was not a slave to his people.

But then he had understood, even as the impostor Rider had not. She protected her people; she was their shield and the tall walls that kept them safe.

Just like the ones he had erected around Uruk to keep his people safe.

If any of those two charlatans had actually understood what the concept of being a king was, it was the little girl. Naïve though she was, as if she had based all her believes of kingship on what a knight ought be.

The look of pain, of doubt, of worry that had widened those precious eyes and creased her brow had looked positively splendid. He could see the strength, the pride, the ferocity of a warrior just behind the curtain of agony the words of the warlord-who-would-be-king inspired. If the fraud had used just the right word or turn of phrase, the warrior would have broken free like a lion from a frail cage and she would have given as good as she got, impressing upon him how little of a king he was.

However, the words that would have caused such a display (how magnificent it would have been, he had nearly uttered them himself) were said in farewell and did not give Sabre the chance to cry her lion's roar.

Instead, he had to ascertain her pride. Hoping that the next time she met that tyrannous warlord she would eat him up and spit him out.

But by Marduk, if she wasn't interesting!

**I like Gilgamesh as a character. I think he's very interesting. Although I do to wonder how a warrior from the middle-east can have white skin and blond hair.**

**Right, please review and tell me what you liked/disliked, I would especially like to know what you thought of the "voice" I gave Gilgamesh.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Good evening, hope you will enjoy this second instalment.**

Her Noble Phantasm was almost as interesting as her. Well, of course it would be, it had a lot to do with who, how and what she was.

The philistine warlord, Rider, had thought as little of it as he did her. No, not quite, he had thought it sad and unfitting for a warrior and king as she was.

He, however, felt intrigued. Rider had called it painful to look upon, and it had been, the light of the Warriors' Dream enough to rival the sun. Golden and lyrical, as beautiful as any sunrise and sunset, yet innately sad, like the music that touched the deepest part of the human soul.

He was reminded, looking at her, yet again of the walls of Uruk, raised to protect his people and bear the brunt of the enemies' attacks, just as she did for her people, taking all the weight of the war upon her shoulders (her deceptively strong shoulders, that seemed so frail as they terminated the fine, curving lines of her torso…), only to find herself too small, too weak, too little for her scrabbling and kicking and fighting to save anyone, least of all herself as she willingly threw herself at the enemy time and again to save the little folk she so loved.

Only to prove not enough.

It was beautiful to see her struggle to keep together, a treasure just to behold. She was a treasure.

She was his.

She was a treasure, and a beautiful one indeed, in body, spirit and history all. Since every treasure belonged to him, so did she.

Besides, no one was worthy to love her (to even behold) in her beautiful destruction but him. She was his.

In truth he felt some regret at how beautifully ephemeral she was, she was beautiful simply in her form and it was a shame to see it go to waste. But, then, had it not been for the burden she carried he would not have desired her half as much, if her Noble Phantasm had proved less brilliant he would likely have abandoned her like he would a sick cur, barely even bothering to end its misery.

The thought came unbidden, but not entirely unwanted, what would he have done if she had been born one of his subjects? He would either have had her killed or taken her for his concubine, and it would certainly have been interesting to hear Enkidu's view of her.

Ah, now that thought was unwanted. Thoughts of his brother always made him feel morose and only too mortal. Made him fall into a sorrow deeper even than any Sabre's dream could have inspired.

**Now, how does one write rants on a woman's appearance without any natural compulsion to dwell on the thoughts? One doesn't and just throw in something that make the character seem to have a thing for shoulders which probably reflects on oneself. One's appearances are not improved by constantly referring to oneself as "oneself", no?**

**I'll stop now, but that part really had me stumped. I wanted Gilgamesh to go sailing off on a fluffy white tangent about how pretty Sabre was. Only to find I've absolutely nothing to say about a woman's appearance below the neckline that doesn't seem vulgar to me (and Gilgamesh may have a healthy libido, but he is NOT vulgar) or consist solely of one or two synonyms/variations over "slender"… So, yeah, nothing.**

**This comment is getting longer than the story, so I'll finish with: It's late in moment of writing and any mistakes are to be pointed out critically that they may be corrected, please review and tell me what you liked/disliked. Goodnight now. ») And Iscandar is so a philistine!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I wanted to re-watch Fate/Zero. So I stopped by Tvtropes and read their register. Obviously.**

**I learned something new and quite interesting.**

I am Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, Fifth King of Uruk and the one true King of the world. I have in all my adventures and all my years found only two people worthy to stand beside me as equals, two people whom I would confer with, my mother and Enkidu, my brother in all but blood.

Enkidu... You shattered my world, Brother. You showed me I was not alone, you showed me why my ways had been wrong, you showed me how to treasure the land outside Uruk, I loved you better than any dreams could have predicted.

"Like a man loves a woman" indeed...

Then, as a consequence of my own arrogance, you were stricken with a terrible illness, to die weak. Your life slowly draining away, you became a different man, bitter and short-tempered. You both cursed and forgave the whore that had brought you to civilization (to me) on your deathbed, surrounded though you were by people who grieved for you. Oh, Brother...

I have found you again.

Well, no, not really. She is merely a lot like you. I see you in her every time I look at her, I hear your voice every time she talks. I see you in the grace of her movements, in the fierceness of her attacks, in the clever mind working behind beautiful eyes, in the brazen manner she refuses me, in the pride and confidence that fills her voice...

She reminds me of the man you made me want to be, the man you made me become. She makes me want to be like that again, a King who remembers the cares of his subjects...

And a man who believed in love.

"Like a man loves a woman" indeed...

That is the main difference between you. She is much like you, only she has breasts.

Huh.

I could sleep with the person I loved best in the form of a beautiful woman? Now, that's an interesting thought. Seductive, even.

***Off-screen***

**Enkidu: *Laughing his arse off* Like me but with breasts?! I'd be mad if you didn't sleep with her!**

**Sabre: *Shaking with fury* You-! I'm gonna Excalibur your bloody arse into the next bloody millennium!**

**I need to reclassify this. It's officially a dump for one-shots and drabbles. Should I change the title? Open for suggestions if yes. Also, need to reread Gil's epic... It's not that long, anyway.**

**Please review and tell me what you liked/disliked.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just because. Why else? Because I'm an infrequent updater. An anonymous reviewer asked for the last chapter if Gilgamesh was gay. The answer: Assyriologists are debating that, too. Although he did have wives, concubines and children in plenty, so the debate is more whether he was straight or bi. Of course, it might just have been a metaphor for how much Gilgamesh would love Enkidu. Take your pick.**

Hell-cat!

That little, sickly-pale, freak-eyed, heretical minx!

No, not minx. She was too stubborn, too down-to-earth, too ethereal (never mind how contradictory that seemed), too distant to be a minx. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd quite forgotten she had a womb!

Hell-cat she was, then.

That suited her, too. Cats could have green eyes and golden coat.

But they were sacred animals.

So was she, basically. As a blonde, emerald-eyed human she was a wonder by the Gods, thus sacred. As a human of knowledge and education she was sacred. As a king, even a false usurper, she was sacred.

Except she loathed that last title.

No, not loathed. Bore it, and oh so beautifully, but recognized the weight. She had realized her folly in claiming kingship, that she couldn't bear the burden of being so elevated, of being so mighty.

But all backwards.

The burden of _protecting_ her people? Of _serving_ them?

What womanly ideas! To serve and please. The idea was a mockery in and of itself. To protect.

Ah, but that wasn't.

She was willing to give everything she'd ever had, ever been, ever fought and bled (and cried? The thought gave him pause) for away, throw it away to be destroyed. As if it was nothing, worthless.

Because she hadn't been the perfect king.

Which was silly. Of course she hadn't been. She wasn't even a king, _he_ was the only king.

Where was he going with all of this? Where had he come from?

From hell-cat to...

His.

Enkidu would love her. Or hate her. Maybe he would be envious of the privileges and attention she received, never mind just how much she would disdain them and struggle against him and the restraints he put on her.

Or maybe he would be the only bright point in her existence. A kind, intelligent human being, who would never dream of harming her, of humiliating her further? That his motivations for the latter had little to do with respect for her and more for him would be irrelevant.

He groaned.

Again and again. Enkidu haunted his thoughts and his dreams as often as his Queen did, these days.

Often it would be both at once.

Ah, that bade pleasant memories of dusty dreams arise in his mind. Languid pleasures, beautiful bodies displayed as the Gods saw them, warmth surrounding them in the form of an abundance of water turned to steam, blessed interplays of light and shadow...

Even his breath was a little shallow after his mind had indulged so.

But, ah, how beautiful it was. Light reflected in the water stored in the warm lakes and rivers of the body was the only measure he could find within his own vast vaults of knowledge.

**Sabre: Has he always been this unhinged?**

**Enkidu: What did you expect from someone who's two-thirds god, and regularly reminded of that?**

**Sabre: How does that even work, mathematically speaking?**

**Enkidu: No idea. I never got around to asking a mathematician.**

**I probably took some liberties in this chapter, and I'm perfectly okay with Gil sounding more than a little unhinged. Anyway, please review and tell me what you liked/disliked. ^_^**

**And, uh... It's late! Night! Look, fish!**


End file.
